36 | A Frantic Call

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Kiera hated herself.

She always had.

But despite her hideousness, Ryan had been her friend. Even though she was ugly as sin, Ryan had told her she was pretty.

He was the best person in the whole world.

Which was why she wanted him to be happy. And from everything he'd told her all those months ago only Maybelle Summers could make him happy.

"There's a hole in my chest, Kia," Ryan had said, as he nursed a bottle of beer.

They were in Kiera's family home. She had just walked in after work and found him sprawled on the sofa with a beer bottle in his hand and about five dozen around him, drunk as a fox.

And he never drank.

Never.

She casually draped her coat over one of the chairs and settled into it.

"The hole was in your stomach sweetie," she had countered, acting as nonchalant as possible. "Not your chest."

"Then why does the one in my heart hurt more?" he had questioningly grumbled.

As quick as she was able to get her brother to start flirting with a random girl she made her escape.

She huffed as she ran. All the extra fat that clung to her skin did not make it easier.

She was panting by the time she'd reached a secluded part of the fairground.

She stood next to a ride that didn't seem to be running—an old carousel. The shadows around her grew longer and less prominent.

The sun was dipping into the horizon.

She shivered, the cold air seeping through all her layers of flesh and into her very core.

An unnecessary chill stroked her spine. She rolled her eyes.

It's not like  she had to worry about creepy perverts. They wouldn't even glance her way.

No human being—not even one with even the most reticent mind would ever be interested in a ninteen year old ogre who looked like she was twelve.

Stay safe, eat cake. She heard her brother Arjun laugh.

She had way too many brothers. Maybe if she had had some female influence in her life she wouldn't be this hideous.

She quickly whipped out her phone and dialed Ryan's private number, tugging her neck scarf with her other hand.

He picked up on the third ring. "This better be important Kia, I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"Do you or do you not want May back?"

"Excuse me?" He sounded a little struck.

"She's under the impression that you blame her for everything that happened." She was beginning to sound hysterical.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"What?"

"She's at Merribourne fairgrounds and she's decked in blue-well pretty much everything."

She heard a pained laugh. "She does love blue,"

"They're closing in two hours and it takes about forty five minutes to get here, boy. Do you want her back or not? Because I know for a fact that if you talk to her she might forgive you for shutting her out." She took another deep breath.

"She's going to be really angry." Came a hesitant voice.

"I didn't think you were a pussy, Ryan."

There was a minute of silence over the phone. Kiera almost thought she'd been left hanging.

Then he spoke. With a quivering voice he admitted, "I'm terrified, Kia."

Kiera wanted to sigh in relief.

Almost there.

Now all she had to do was focus. "I know. But do you really want her to be the biggest what if in your life? Because this is probably going to be the only window you'll get. Do you want a what if I told her or a thank God I did?"

A shuffling was heard. "I'm on my way,"

Kiera ended the call and sighed. Then she glanced down at her chubby, red gloved hands.

If only someone would love her like that.

She quickly shook her head of the wavering thought.

What nonsense. She was going to be just fine on her own.

Just fine.

It didn't matter that no man would-could ever love her.

Not at all.

Besides, she had seven men in her life—eight, if Ryan was included. She didn't need anymore.

She didn't need love. Love was overrated.

She made her way back to her brother, feeling like after all the horridness she'd given the world with her presence, she'd finally made it a little less horrid.

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